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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26360524">Humiliation</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merixcil/pseuds/Merixcil'>Merixcil</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Whumptober 2019 [25]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Tuca &amp; Bertie (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Anxiety, Depression, Gen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2019-10-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2019-10-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 06:00:19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>753</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26360524</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merixcil/pseuds/Merixcil</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Tuca needs breakfast</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Whumptober 2019 [25]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1838356</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Humiliation</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The apartment’s cold as shit but hey, what else is new? It’s a chilly run to the fridge, which is empty. That’s not an issue though, Bertie’s probably up baking something already. Tuca can just head down there and scoop up some of those tasty num nums. </p><p>Tuca pauses by the door, where a tiny slip of paper has made it’s way under the frame. It’s teeny tiny baby writing sings up at her: <em>please don’t come over this morning Tuca, Speckle and I really need some time together as a couple. Bertie (xoxoxo I love you lots please don’t be mad at me oh God don’t be mad, please I just really feel like I need to ask for this one little thing that’s just one morning for myself and Speckle says that I should be more assertive so this is me asserting myself but please don’t think that I don’t value you just because I’m asserting myself on you, today, you just seemed like a really safe target to practice on but now I’m thinking that maybe using your friends as practice for your emotions is unfair and oh my God oh my God I should never have written this note!) </em></p><p>It got a little squeaky at the end there. </p><p>Don’t come over? Alright, if that’s how she feels. And maybe Tuca will stay away for the whole day, just to prove that she can. That’ll show the two of them. With their personal time. Shit, what kind of personal time can it possibly be if there are no people there to share it with? That’s what the ‘person’ part of ‘personal’ is all about, right?</p><p>Maybe she’ll go down and see them anyway, add a little spice to their personal morning. Just in case, Tuca checks her wallet on the way out. Gotta make sure that if she gets to the bottom of the stairs and feels like getting a bagel or buying a unicycle she can do her thing. </p><p>The wallet is empty. Like, empty empty. Like, Tuca’s used all her extra secret stashes for this month and her wallet is empty already. What the fuck? </p><p>She stomps down the stairs a little more heavily than she needs to but hey, always good to announce herself ahead of time. When she knocks on Bertie’s door it takes way too long for anyone to answer. She nearly winds up jimmying the lock herself. </p><p>When the door does open, it’s Speckle. “Tuca? Didn’t you get Bertie’s note?”</p><p>“Got it, read it, didn’t care for it.” Tuca clacks her beak at him. “Where's the breakfast at, S-dawg? Ya girl needs to eat!”</p><p>Speckle stares at her, then he frowns, his shoulders getting all big like he thinks this is a fight or something. “Bertie specifically told you that she didn’t want you to come round this morning!”</p><p>“Yeah, well, I liked my plan better. And I’m hungry, so let’s get this show on the road.”</p><p>“No!” Speckle stamps his little robin foot, and it barely shakes the dust off his laces. “You can’t just do this every day, Tuca! You have to let people have space, especially when they ask for it. Go home now, please. We’ll see you tomorrow.”</p><p>“But I-” The door slams in her face before she can finish that thought.</p><p>No food, no money, no fucking friends. Maybe Draca can help her out. Maybe. </p><p>Something gloopy and dark starts to well up in Tuca’s belly, and she doesn’t think it has anything to do with that funky sandwich she found in the trash yesterday. Thinking about Draca, towering over her and mysteriously rustling her leaves and possibly telling her that yes, she can come in for breakfast and probably telling her to get her shit together and stop being such a shitty moocher… it doesn’t sound fun when she puts it like that. </p><p>She could call her aunt, Tuca supposes. But that would be a whole thing in and of itself. She doesn’t have the energy to do that alone. Or sober. </p><p>Bed it is. All day. A self care day. Tuca crashes onto the mattress and her stomach growls angrily at her, barking like a dog. Well shit, what’s she supposed to do about that? She pulls the duvet up and over her head, making sure that no one can see her, and hopes that if she can get to sleep she can buck back up to her full powered funkalicious super fun self. </p><p>Sleep never comes. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This work was originally posted as part of a multi chaptered 'whumptober' fic that I'm trying to split up. If you think you've read it before, you probably have</p></blockquote></div></div>
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